Monday, August 29, 2005

Take two of these and nudge me in the morning.

So anyway, as someone who enjoys the redundancy of watching every episode (for the 12th or so time I might add) of Star Trek: The Next Penetration every day on Spike, I’ve developed a…familiarity…with the daily advertisements on the station. Now is it just me…or is Penis Pill Bob really starting to scare the holy be-Jesus out of anyone else. For those who are unfamiliar, Penis Pill Bob is this guy on the commercials for Enzyte – “The once daily pill for natural male enhancement”. Translation: herbal dick pill. Sub-translation: NO MEDICINAL PROPERTIES WHATSOEVER – can’t actually do anything to your willy. The ads feature said PPB in a series of situations, wandering around aimlessly, doing day to day suburbanite sort of things, with this perpetual glowing beam on his face (most likely due to the fact that he’s got so much blood in his cock that he can no longer control the muscles around his mouth). He golfs with a boner – and sinks a hole-in-one, he goes swimming at the neighborhood pool party – only to emerge from the pool sans shorts and at full salute (much to the awe of the other guests), he can’t keep the cheerleaders off of him at the local football game – much to the dismay of the opposing team’s fan base (the opposing team is the IMPS - four of the super fans all have a letter from the team name on their chests, a fifth guy comes by with an L on his - you figure the rest out), hell his very presence causes the neighbor’s garden hose to go…ahem…limp. And I’m not so sure it’s PPB that scares me so much as Mrs. Penis Pill Bob…a.k.a. – The Happy Tee-Partner Back at the Clubhouse (as she was referred to in the Golf scenario). First of all, this lady’s just on the ‘had five shots of tequila too many’ good side of repulsive. I can’t fathom why PPB would want to waste a perfectly good, chemically enhanced hard-on to fuck this woman. Every time she sees him, she gets a ‘glow’ on her face that could break a mirror. You get all of this insanity set to a soundtrack eerily reminiscent of music from Leave it to Beaver (if that’s not pun-ny, I don’t know what is).

Goddammit these people really irk me. And I know it’s not their fault, they’re just actors. The ad folks at Enzyte are to blame. They’re the ones who came up with the bright idea to torture my existence with these freaky fuckers. One commercial had the PPBs’s neighbor, Steve or something (and Mrs. Steve btw), over for dinner. Mrs. Steve was looking quite depressed as she stared at Steve’s cocktail weenie (seriously, it was a cocktail weenie on a toothpick). PPB has Steve call Enzyte, next day, they’re all back in the PPBs’s, samba dancing in the living room, just a pitcher of margueritas away from the orgy from hell. I shudder to think what these fuckers are going to come up with for this asshole to do next. If I had my way, PPB’s giant, six-million dollar, bionic wünder-phallus would break off in Mrs. PPB’s ass, killing them both (him from extreme blood loss, her from a terminal combination of shock and incurable constipation). Gee Wally, that’d be swell!!!

Thursday, August 25, 2005

To synth or not to synth.

So anyway, as some may have notice, Mr. Robert Moog (by the way it's pronounced Mohg, for those that didn't know) passed away a couple of days ago. I don't know, somehow I feel like I should be a little more bummed than I am about that. I absolutely love synthesizers, in particular, I love emulating acoustic sounds on synthesizers. I don't know the first thing and could generally care less about waves, saws and pads (aside from the occasional nostalgic re-creation of certain 80's tunes). And aside from the basic history, I don't really know much about Mr. Moog or his invention. But I do love what came of it - sitting in your studio/lab/bedroom/basement/etc creating entire ensembles with a single machine...ooooh bebe, gets me all excited. I absolutely hate the way certain parts of the film music community have basically raped and bastardized the use of synth in modern music (you don't have to be a rocket surgeon - that was intentional btw - to guess who I'm referring to).

Anyway, don't really have much to say on the subject; just noticed it; felt sad for a few minutes; thought I'd share with the rest of the world. It's inevitably disheartening to know that just about everyone whom I've either idolized, or who has created something that I idolize will die in my lifetime. I guess I just hope that when I'm gone, I'll be remembered for creating something as well.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

AFI's 100 Years, 100 Insults to my INTELLIGENCE!!!

So anyway, of the many varied websites I frequent on a daily basis (and no, none of them involve porn – you freaks hehe!) one of the more interesting ones (at least from a film music enthusiasts point of view) is www.soundtrackcollector.com. It’s a very extensive site operated by a gentleman in Norway (I think) that, among other things, has a film music news section, a discussion forum, and probably the single largest soundtrack album database in the world. If the soundtrack or score from a movie has an album, be it official or promotional, foreign or domestic, it’s likely in this database (which has at current count 307,000 soundtrack albums by 6400 composers). Another interesting feature about the database is that it allows visitors to register (for free) as members (of which there are currently over 38,000) and catalogue both their current collection, and wish list. As it stands, I have only a handful of CD’s in my collection that aren’t catalogued on the site simply because they are bootlegs (factory pressed, wide-release bootlegs, but still bootlegs – and the site frowns on such things…sigh).

So what’s my point today? Well a couple of days ago a member posted a comment on the forum in regards to the AFI – 100 Years, 100 Scores vote that is, at present, still in progress. The list of the 250 nominees has been public knowledge for a while now, and it’s…well…interesting to say the least. It’s what you might expect a group of people who have no real insight into the genre to compile…basically most of the Oscar nominees and winners with a few surprises thrown in for color. The forum poster was basically stating his/her feelings on it and what he/she felt were some omissions. They then left the posting open for debate as to everyone else’s feelings on the subject. A respondent, who was very obviously European (as evidenced by the nearly complete lack of understanding of English grammar - then again that's half of this country also...oh well, look at it and you'll get what I mean), was first to respond with their thoughts on the list, saying that they would first remove anything ‘Star Wars’ related from the list…

ARE YOU COMPLETELY FUCKING INSANE?!?!?!?!?!

For my original response, go to the website. I decided I’d try to expound upon it further here. First of all, I’m actually a little insulted that ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ wasn’t acknowledged on the list. The poster's statement was ignorant firstly and most simply in the fact that ‘A New Hope’ was the only Star Wars film represented (a near travesty really) and yet they seemed to be under the impression that they were all there. Many of the members of SoundtrackCollector seem to be European, in fact most of the forum posters are so (they’re persistently looking for expanded and complete scores to movies that have no such official release – mainly because most of them, the poster's that is, seem to be indifferent to the concepts of copyrighting and intellectual property, and despite the fact the site openly looks down on bootlegging and pirating). If one were to take a sample of their various questions and comments over the years, one might notice an unmistakable slant against American film composers in general. I first noticed it in a posting several months ago when someone posed a question about everyone’s least favorite scores and the general consensus amongst the Euro’s was that Danny Elfman’s ‘Mission: Impossible’ score was the biggest insult to the music world in about 100 years (I have…issues, with this too, but that’s for another posting). Every so often the subject comes up again, and it’s all I can do not to smash my head through the computer monitor. The common argument seems to be that American composers are rip-off artists; hacks who plagerize and self-plagerize everything they put to paper. This can be rendered essentially invalid simply by stating that every, or at least nearly every composer (film or otherwise) is guilty of emulating and drawing ideas from their predecessors. I just don't get it, our politicians in the U.S. have done just about any and everything humanly possible to alienate the rest of the world, but at least we composers have embraced the 'European Sound'. Anyway, back to Star Wars, making a statement like that is not only insulting to just about everything that is good modern film music, but it demonstrates a complete lack of understanding and appreciation for the musical, cultural, and historical significance of those original three films and the impact their scores had on the genre, if not the whole world. The orchestral score was in the process of dying a slow, dismal, festering death by the 1970’s. The 60’s and early 70’s saw a period of ‘new’ directors who had little appreciation for the art of it. They seemed to have a “If I can’t see the orchestra, where’s the music coming from?” mindset, and in so doing, dropped all music from their films (with the exception of source cues). The scores from ‘Jaws’ and a few other films garnered their fair share of attention, but nothing would have the impact of George Lucas’ “little project” in ’77. The music for 'A New Hope' was a defibrillating jolt to the heart of orchestral music in cinema and as such a renaissance(for lack of a better word) in the genre began.

In recent years things have gone down hill. Blaming Media Ventures for the current problems in film music has become something of a trendy fad, though admittedly, it's mostly justified. Vogler and I agree that a second coming of the grand (read: coherent thematic structure) orchestral score is nigh. Until then there still seem to be more than enough drum loops left to fill a 200 gig hard drive. We just have to ride it out. There are a few stand out guys from MV that seem to be doing an excellent job of branching out. First and foremost is Harry Gregson-Williams. Scores like 'Sinbad' and 'Kingdom of Heaven' show a remarkable amount of potential. Then you have guys like John Powell and Klaus Badelt, who are trying, but still haven't seemed to find a solid voice yet. Most recently, Steve Jablonsky has come to my attention. His autopilot attempt with 'The Island' isn't a prime example, but he's slipped in a gem or two right under our noses. 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre' remake was derivative at best, but it at least tries to tackle a film genre these guys haven't really touched before. Then there's my latest discovery...'Steamboy'. Wow, this was way the hell out of left field. Sure parts of it are typical MV, but there's so incredibly much more to like than dislike. I highly recommend anyone that reads this get out and rent the film ASAP. I don't necessarily think that the folks at MV are entirely at fault for our current woes...they are catering to a demand after all. That demand comes from producers. If Brad likes to refer to the MV guys as the Zimmerites, then why not call their patrons Bruckies. I personally think the good Mr. Bruckheimer should carry some of the burden of guilt. What if all the Bruckheimer's in Hollywood had a meeting, and while they were all gathered in one place someone blew up the building in a slam-bang pyrotechnics spectacular that would make even them proud...that might actually get things rolling in the right direction again.

But I digress...

No one, not even the Maestro Williams himself writes 'Empire's' anymore. Those kinds of scores are work after all. Textures and thematic interweaving and grandieur of that magnitude haven't really been common since the days of Wagner and Mahler. 'A New Hope' was a landmark achievement in film music, though 'Empire' was/is arguably the better score. Composers used to spend years fine tuning music of that scale. To pull off something that rich and dense in a matter of weeks is awe inspiring. The music from the original triology (excluding the tweaking done in 1997) stands alone, solely as music, better (arguably) than any other piece of film music out there ('The Lord of the Rings' being perhaps the only recent exception - and even then, I still think it's the poorer cousin, so to speak). Everyone in the free world has the right to express their opinions on any given subject. There are obviously much stronger 'hot-button' topics than this to pick at. But regardless of what your talking about, when you make a statement about a topic, make damn sure you can support your position. In fact, you shouldn't even wait for someone like myself to pounce, you should just get straight to the meat of it and say as much as possible as to why you would make such a ridiculous assertion. Other wise you're a fool, and an ignorant fool at that.

Admittedly, should I ever have the opportunity, I'd whore myself out to Media Ventures if for no other reason then just to get my name out there. I wouldn't have to stay long; a year, maybe two. Hell, having access to that much technology alone would make it worth it (and perhaps gag the guy on my shoulder a bit too). The MV guys, when they're in MV mode, are completely interchangable, just call me Michael Jans Gregennie-Manjadeltbinimmersky if you want. Then, later, I would imagine I could get back to writing 'real' music for films...something with a real tune, and woodwinds, and dense harmonies and textures, something not in d-minor. Yeah, that'd be cool.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Lightnin', jus...struck my brain (That must hurt!)!

So anyway, as I was driving home yesterday, a couple of thoughts entered my mind. First, I remembered what George Carlin used to say about drivers, “Did you ever notice that anyone who drives slower than you is an idiot, and anyone who drives faster than you is a maniac”. This is profoundly true, which leads me to my second thought…when did I become such an old fart...a coot, a codger, a fuddy-duddy, a Bass Pro hat-wearing card-carrying member of AARP?!?! Just five (as in 5, cinco, fünf, cinq, cinque, I’m not even going to try to figure out how to type in Russian – there’s a useful skill for you, I’m so glad that 20 years of education have enabled me to count to ten in six languages!) years ago my average speed was ten to fifteen miles above the posted limit, whereas today, I’m averaging the limit to five below (except on I-70 where I average about 60 mph)! I guess I had an apostrophe (I think you mean an epiphany) a few years back. I decided there was absolutely no point in being in a hurry everywhere I went and in everything that I did. So…I slowed down, literally! So as I drive home every morning after the nightly grind (that just doesn’t sound right) I watch as the denizens make their scramble to work and chuckle at the chaos of it all. Inevitably some psychotic on a bad PCP rage will come flying by at a high enough rate of speed to send them back to 1955 and I’ll roll the eyes as I give them a “Where’s the fucking fire you maniac?!”! Eventually I’ll come upon an old lady or an 18-wheeler doing 40 in the left lane during rush hour and as I pass on the right I take a moment to give them a glare that could melt lead. As a bit of a side note, I think it would be funny to carry a microwave into a retirement home and watch the scuttle that ensues to get away from it……pacemakers are funny……anyway…

I like driving in the left lane, and I'll gladly get over for a speedier driver if a: They stay off my ass, and b: They give me enough time to get past any ridiculously slow assholes in the next lane. I have to admit though that I just love making some rude and impatient asswipe go around me just so I can go ahead and get over right after he/she passes me. I guess my current philosophy is that if you’re running so late that you feel you need to drive balls to the wall to get to where you need to be, next time, leave earlier. And concurrently, if you can’t at least drive at a rate of five miles within the posted speed limit…stay the fuck home! Finally, if you feel you just can not adhere to either of these ideals, watch out, because some psycho (like me) may inevitably follow you home and make you watch as they torture your loved ones (mmm…I love the smell of …oh never mind, I’ll just keep that one to myself).

Friday, July 29, 2005

I'm still Marvin, but, for now, I'm OK with it!

Ok, so, yeah I'm feeling a little better today. Or at least I was until I saw four things:


1: Herr Vogler's latest posting just about sent me in to a fit (the topic, not his view on it...I agree with him).

2: My contact for film work finally got back to me. Which would seem fan-fucking-tastic if he hadn't told me that just about every job he was trying to line up seems either to be in a perpetual state of limbo, or to have just flat died all together.

3: NASA has grounded the shuttle program.......again (FUUUUUUCK)!

4: The House passed CAFTA - In all honesty, I don't really know much of anything about the agreement, but if Dubya's administration came up with it, it can't be good for anyone except Dubya and his lackeys. What I'm really upset aboot is the way it was passed. The whole partisan political mentality (and I don't just mean by the Republicans, but in this case, them in particular...they are worse about it after all) that you need to blindly support any and everything that your President churns out just to help him save face (particularly when he's in serious need of having his ass handed to him anyway) just makes my blood boil. If you're not sure what I'm talking about here's the link to the CNN.com story:

http://www.cnn.com/2005/POLITICS/07/28/house.cafta/index.html

The White House went well above and beyond any reasonable and sensible effort to get this thing pushed through. For one, the fact that the bill passed by two votes speaks volumes on how potentially awful it could be, and two, breaking every House voting policy and tradition to wring two more votes out of the cloth is just insane...

I don't know, I guess I just don't know enough about politics to really get it, and in the end, I suppose I'm better for it anyway. The less I know about the process, the better my blood pressure will be (let's face it, do I sound like someone who needs more aggravations?).

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

I AM MARVIN!

So anyway, I seem to be feeling the happiest, and yet concurrently, the most depressed I've ever felt in my entire life. I am so totally stoked about the baby that I could pop, but at the same time, just about everything else in my life is equivalent to a heaping pile of monkey shit. I guess I'm just bummed that I can't seem to get things together musically. I know I've entered a field where I have to make things happen, but that just isn't feasible right now, and won't be for about three or four YEARS!!! Don't get me wrong, I absolutely, positively, in no way, shape or form whatsoever regret having a baby right now. Actually, in the grand scheme of things, it's probably an ideal time. I know my wife's happy; she's downright bubbly about it. And she's never been more radiant or beautiful (no I don't get off on preggies, but the 'glow' is real enough). As a couple, we've been getting along better than ever (not that that was ever a real problem anyway). But...

I hate my job; I hate most of the people I work with and for (more on that in a minute). I haven't composed anything of note (hah! that's pun-ny) in months. My one source of potential film projects seems to have disappeared of the face of the Earth. I've paid off several bills, but I still seem to have just as many as before (*in an English accent* Oh God, I'm soooo depressed!). Oh well, welcome to life I guess!

As for 'work', well, let me elaborate a little (not a lot, really!) on why I hate it so much. First there's my shift manager whom I shall from henceforth refer to as Big Bad Hindu Mamma, or BBHM. Let me start by saying that I know how Peter felt in Office Space. I basically answer to 3 (Three...as in more than two) people. My immediate supervisor, the deaf queer (he's not really gay, it's just fun to torment him about it...but he is deaf), may be the only truly intelligent person other than my mother and myself on our floor. I can live with him...he's a good guy...just hard to understand on occasion. Then there's his first boss, and also my boss, BBHM. She is neither bad (in the blaxploitation film sense), nor Hindu (she's not really a mom either - never had kids). She is however a mildly retarded, über-cow. She worked as a call center floor manager for a major credit card company for 20 years before coming to the bank. While there, she was shipped to India to open and train the call center that her company was outsourcing there. She likes to think that she has some special super-power that enabled her to be chosen for the assignment when in actuality she was simply the most qualified, and had seniority. We're talking about a woman, whom by her own admission, majored in 'Bar Hopping' in college, graduating with a low B/high C average. She came back to the States with an array of various native garbs, which she likes to wear to work regularly (she has one on now as a matter of fact). Problem is, she weighs about 60 pounds heavier than your average Indian woman. Put a turban on her head and she'd look like a palm reader at some dustbowl carny (moles and all). Point of fact, she is probably the single most repulsive looking person (man or woman) that I have ever personally known. I think she may actually be Larry the Cable Guy's sister (Holy Moley anyone!) She has obnoxious down to a science. She thinks she has a firm understanding of sarcasm as a source of humor...problem is, every time she tries to be 'funny', she just comes across as an imbecile. Think of Pat from It's Pat, but shorter, fat, and blonde. From behind she looks like a young boy, but when she turns around she looks 8 months pregnant. You know, just as a bit of a side note, as I'm typing this I can't help but laugh about something I read the other day. On CNN.com, the daily poll was asking whether or not a person has the right to trash their boss in a blog, and to my surprise, nay astonishment, at last count 29% of the vote said NO!!! I can't help but think a majority of those were other people's bosses who, like mine, just don't realize how much of a complete jerk-off they really are. I know, having said all that, I only enjoy a limited sense of anonymity, but at this point, I could give 2 whole shits about it...anyway...

I've worked for her for a little over two years, and she STILL does not know how half the processes in the department even work...it's very disconcerting. At present, I'm the only one on my shift that knows how to do my job, so when I'm gone it's up to BBHM to attempt it. It defies any sense of logic or belief just how many people from other departments thank whatever God they pray to that I'm back from wherever I was...and tell me as much personally! I begin training DQ next week, and he's smart and a quick study, so folks around here won't have to freak completely about my leaving for a week next month. To sum up about BBHM, if there are two things I despise more than anything they are disorganization, and incompetence, and she personifies both.

Then there's her boss, as well as my boss...again, whom I shall refer to as Chocolate Starfish. He's the department manager thereby making him my mom's boss also, a VP, and a complete pretentious, sexist, retarded dickwad to boot. I knew everything I ever needed to know about him before I even started working here thanks to my mom. I was treated to a lot of dirt about the goings on at the bank before I began working there. It mostly stopped after I was hired; my mom's not entirely unethical after all. CS is a product of the hills of Arkansas, and it shows. I'm also relatively sure that, and I know it's cliché, he's married to a close blood relative, probably his sister (the bitch looks EXACTLY like him...and his kids actually look like they're missing a chromosome!). He's one of those people who thinks he knows everything about everything...ever, particularly in banking. His daddy ran a bank back home so he thinks he's seen it all ("Have you ever seen a man swallow his own head?" he he). I'm talking about a dipshit who, when redesigning the floor layout, placed nearly every counter and table at comfortable height for himself (6'1"), despite the fact that nearly every member of his staff is a woman under 5'8". If the man had pointy ears, he'd be a donkey. Hell, he already has the personality and I.Q. to match. In short (I know, too late), he is Lumberg! (*again in English accent* Oh God, I am soooooooooo depressed)

I'm not really looking for pity so please don't feel sorry for me or try to console me. I'm just...bummed. Everybody needs to whine like a little girl once in a while. Aside from my wonderful wife, nothing in life thus far has seemed to go as planned. I know things aren't supposed to, but come on, everybody get's a break once in a while. I mean, what the FUCK?!?! I'm so totally uninspired right now I could puke. B-rad (Vogler for you fine folks) tried to get me out of my funk (though he didn't realize that's what he was doing) by suggesting some corrections and additions to my first String Quartet, but I just can't seem to muster up any will power to actually do it. I'm basically fucked,or just this side of it. The giant cock of sorrow is teasing my asshole, just waiting to shove itself on in. I don't know what to do, I'm sure something will come to me...a quick painless end to it all if I'm really lucky (I really don't want to be completely fucked by the cock of sorrow after all).



*once more, with accent* GOD, I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO DEPRESSED!!!!!!!!!!


p.s. If you don't get the Marvin reference, or the accent thing, please, for the love of God, get to a bookstore or library and read Hitchhiker's Guide....NOW!!! (that means you especially Fowler)

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

The O.C. .....D?!?!?

So anyway, yesterday as I was about to settle in for the night(?) I made a somewhat startling discovery…I’m borderline obsessive-compulsive. It’s either that, or I’m just plain psychotic. Follow me on this one…I like to have the TV on when I’m sleeping (nothing unusual), and as I’m about to go to sleep, I have to turn the volume all the way down, turn on the closed captioning, and leave the cable on a program that I would want to watch if I were staying up (DANGER, DANGER, does not compute, DANGER!!!).

But I’m not; I’m going to sleep.

But I can’t sleep if the TV’s on something that I wouldn’t want to watch. It’s not like it matters that something good is on, after all, I always set the sleep timer for 30 minutes. But the magic just doesn’t happen if something good isn’t on. I’ve got another one too!!!

At work, we have a lot of plastic USPS mail trays that we put checks in. If you’re not sure what these are they’re long (about 2 feet, maybe 28 inches), white plastic trays with ‘United States Postal Service’ on the side in big black lettering and their used (obviously) for delivering bulk mail. On one end there’s a plastic sleeve that’s used to insert stubs from air bills or place tray ID’s. Anyway, I absolutely cannot leave these on the tray. I am physically unable to continue putting work into the tray unless I rip that little son-of-a-bitch off. If I know it’s on there, I get the shakes.

So I guess I have two questions really, one: Do I really have a problem?; and two: If not, am I alone in the freak zone (hey that rhymed!)? I’d really like to know and with any luck people outside my diminutive circle of regular-crazy-cyber-buddies will also find this and contribute some insight. I’ve always been crazy (note my previously posted void of moral fiber), just not one of the crazies with a name. Knowing my luck, a Scientologist will read this and tell me not to worry because Bleeblezix from Grellnaut Zebular 9 will make it all better for me very soon (and I think I’m nuts, those fuckers are on Pluto ‘r something man, they’re gone!!!).

Monday, July 18, 2005

Thought for the Day

The word for the day is: Chocolate Starfish.

Think about it.

I Did it All for the Nookie

So anyway, I know it's been a while since I last posted. As the miniscule fragment of cyberspace that has discovered me has no doubt observed, my postings generally have consisted of either of my ranting and venting on various grievances that I have with certain aspects of our worldwide community, or just generalized lunacy that I felt overwhelmed to spew out in a somewhat therapeutic manner. Unlike my pal Vogler, I've started making it a point to avoid things like...the news. We both seem to get easily 'agitated' at the goings-on in the world, and frankly, I have enough in my own life to get pissed at...I don't need help. We have a shared idea about cynics and skeptics, but that's for another post. Of the two types of postings I mentioned above, this post might be viewed by some perhaps as the latter of the two. So let's get rolling.

I come to you now, with a theory so profound in its implications that it may very well shake the foundations of reality as we know it. There will be panic and rioting in the streets. The dead will rise from the grave. There will be dogs and cats...living together...MASS HYSTERIA!!! Well, ok, so not really, but it is a concept, of my own design, that I've been tinkering with for a while. And now I want to share it with you (don't you feel oh so special?).

Thing is, this is an idea I've had for several years, and until this morning, I've never really assembled it as a cohesive thought. As I was working last night, the idea reemerged after a rather extended hiatus thanks in no small part to a correlative idea I had that spawned from my work (more on that in a minute). By the way, in case I never mentioned it, not only do I moonlight as a banker, but also I work graveyard to boot. The only things out and about when I'm at work are vampires, crackheads, and hookers (vampires, crackheads, and hookers...OH MY!)...but I digress...

So now, here it is, for your ultimate viewing pleasure, Mikey's Theory of Sex and Parking Relativity:



For any given length of time, any particular person (though this seems especially true for men as women are typically the regulators of sexual activity) will have a seemingly direct (this assumes that there is complete validity to the theory), and yet concurrently inadvertent correlation between their sex life and the quality of parking spaces that they are able to obtain in so that if said person is getting 'good' sex regularly, they will be generally unable to obtain a decent parking spot anywhere they may travel. And so thus the inverse is also highly apparent and typically true that if one is not getting 'good' sex, or simply has not performed it at all for a length of time, said person would have an abundance of good fortune in finding a preferable parking area that is more agreeable to their general sense of typical human laziness. While obviously there is absolutely no physical connection between the two, the frequency with which they are interrelated is uncanny, owing to some imaginary magical force or something of that nature. It can be postulated that in some instances, neither 'good' parking nor sex can be acheived in tandem, and that only in the rarest of circumstances, perhaps owing to ones own faith and/or karma, that both can be had simultaneously.


George Carlin once said, "These are the kinds of things I think about when I'm home alone and the lights go out!". So anyway there it is. As you've no doubt noticed, I put a lot of thought into this. And, as I said, I remembered it while at work since I have a similar situation there on a weekly basis...I should really consider filing workers comp against those assholes for making me even more fucking crazy than I already was.

At any rate, think on it, and then feel free to talk amongst yourselves...